One of those very peaceful very early Saturday mornings in late summer. The air is not clear because there appears to be a gentle haze of smoke from some distant fire hanging across the river. The gentle birdsong of these woods has been abducted by the brass band call of a murder of crows in the ravine. They had landed mid-tree line, and with the determination of a political candidate, continued their wining and screaming and protesting across the woods, each one determined to caw louder than their brethren.
In a few minutes just across the top of the trees a shadow was silhouetted against the gray sky. A brown hawk flew in and quietly landed in a nearby tree. The crows ignored or missed seeing the new visitor. Then a few minutes later another brown hawk entered the foray, but with much whistling and sharp singing making his/her presence known. The second hawk landed in the highest tree and cried and cried and cried. To no avail, as the crows ignored it and continued their shouting and cawing.
After some time the noise of all the feathered cast diminished and the shadow of what appeared to be a third hawk flew quickly and quietly through the dark greens of the mid-level trees into the distant peninsula and beyond my sight. I did not see the other hawks leave, but the woods became silent once again as the crows followed quietly.
Was this a young'un being driven away by the resident crows and being protected by mom and dad? Made me wonder if hawks ever gang up on crows to make a point?